


Vaurien Scapegrace and His New-Found Lady Feelings

by therealfroggy



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: Scapegrace is having a hard time adjusting to his new body. It's not that he can't make it work, or anything; it's just that it has all these lady feelings he has no idea what to do about.No real spoilers, except for Nye's transplant, if you haven't read the latter half of the series.





	Vaurien Scapegrace and His New-Found Lady Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Impossible to really decide what kind of pairing it is, because Scapegrace is both male and female, but, well. He's hooking up with Thrasher, that's what he's doing.

Vaurien Scapegrace was a man. Emphasis on the past tense, there, of course. He used to be a man, or rather, a male sorcerer, and then he became a zombie, and now he was a woman. A strong, impressive, sexy woman, at that. With a woman's body. A woman's body currently experiencing all sorts of strange things.

Vaurien Scapegrace knew nothing about being a woman. Some things were exactly the same, true – he ate and slept and thought much like his old self. But other things – embarrassing things – were very, very different.

His first menstruation had freaked him out to the point of panic. He had frantically googled for hours before calming down somewhat. He'd known that he would have to go through this, but he hadn't expected just how frightening the experience would be. He hadn't thought women had to suffer quite so much for quite so long at a time.

First, there was the tenderness. His breasts – magnificent though they were – ached and hurt, and the notion of wearing underwear was less appealing than ever. His stomach was swollen and felt strained, and he felt fat. He looked at himself in the mirror and knew he wasn't fat, but his trousers were tighter than usual and apparently, retaining water was something his body did now.

Then, there were the cravings. He wanted things, things he really couldn't remember ever wanting, but which he suddenly could not bear to be without. He sent Thrasher out on errands daily; he wanted cookies, he wanted chips, he wanted deep fried Mars bars (and was almost sick after eating three). He even, bizarrely, wanted spinach smoothies. For some absurd reason, he just had to have a smoothie, and it had to have spinach in it.

Thrasher looked terrified, but did as he was told.

After the cravings came the back pain, and the stomach aches, and the feeling that his hips were full of pebbles scraping against his joints when he walked. The cramps were so bad that when he finally went to the bathroom and saw blood in his underwear, Vaurien was sure his insides had ruptured and that he was going to die of internal bleeding. He was horrified until he remembered that this was normal. Common. Everyone, at least everyone with a uterus, had to do this.

After bleeding continuously for five days and still standing upright, Vaurien actually felt like an amazon warrior and wondered how men dared make nasty comments around him when he could probably strangle them with his bare hands.

All in all, his first period was nothing short of a soul-wrenching revelation to Vaurien Scapegrace. But he made it through, and felt like a stronger person for it.

Then other lady feelings began manifesting, and he panicked once more. Only, this time, he figured he shouldn't rely on search engines, but should actually talk to another woman. Despite her having turned him down the last time, Vaurien figured Valkyrie Cain was his best bet. Surely she'd only objected to the topic of menstruation, not to talking to him in general.

Also, she was the only normal woman he knew, and he really needed to talk to someone.

The next time Cain came into the pub with Skulduggery, Vaurien offered a long list of suspects to the skeleton detective, distracting him while he leaned conspiratorially close to Cain.

“I need help.”

Valkyrie Cain looked confused. “With what?”

“I have... I think there's something wrong with me,” Vaurien admitted, feeling his porcelain skin heat up with embarrassment. “I need your help, Valkyrie. Please.”

Her mouth tightened. “There's a lot wrong with you, Scapegrace. Talk to a medical professional, not me.”

“I tried, but Clarabelle isn't very helpful,” he insisted. “It'll only take a moment. Please. I just have a few questions.”

Cain's whole face scrunched up. “I absolutely refuse to talk about your... your cycle. I just won't.”

“No, no, it's not about that,” Vaurien assured her, shaking his head quickly. “I figured that out. No, it's just a few... just a few questions, I swear.”

Cain sighed heavily. “Fine. Five minutes.” She turned to her partner. “Skulduggery, can you just... wait here? I'll be right back.”

They went into the back room of the pub, and Cain made an impatient gesture. “Alright, talk.”

“Ah. Um. Well, you're a woman,” Vaurien began, and watched horror dawn on her face. He talked faster. “So I just wondered. The, the feelings. The urges. The distractions and such. Do they go away after a while? Or is it something I'm doing wrong?”

Valkyrie Cain's face became stony. “Urges? Like, murderous urges?”

Vaurien blinked. “Um, no? Not really? I think. I mean... It's Thrasher. And sometimes other men. And, occasionally, women. I look at them, and my... there's clenching. And sometimes an ache. Once or twice there's even been a twitch. Then my cheeks feel hot and I forget what I was doing and I spill something. Is it normal?”

Cain's lips twitched. “You told me it wouldn't be about your lady parts.”

“It's not!” Vaurien said, offended. “It's about my... well, I get these... ideas. I look at people in whom I have no interest whatsoever, and I want to... well, I suddenly get an interest. Is there something wrong with me? Does this ever happen to you? Or, to women in general?”

“Scapegrace, you're having spasms over people because you want to sleep with them,” Cain said evenly. “It is so about your lady parts!”

Vaurien felt dizzy and had to put a hand out to the wall to keep himself upright. “No! No, I don't want to sleep with them, that's the thing! I like women! I'm still me! I want to sleep with beautiful women, not... not Thrasher!”

“Well, your body disagrees with you, then,” Cain snapped. “Honestly, Scapegrace. Man up, pick one and sleep with them, and stop giving me nightmares!”

Vaurien's face crumpled. “But I don't know how to sleep with someone as a woman!”

Cain covered her face in her hands. “I can't believe I'm not knocking you out right now, just to make you stop talking.”

“Please, Valkyrie,” he said, tears in his voice, and dear God, had he ever cried in front of another person in his life? “I'm so confused, I don't know what to do!”

Cain sighed and looked to the heavens in exasperation. “It's really not that difficult. You take your clothes off and you lie there, and he does the rest. Why don't you just ask Thrasher and make all his dreams come true?”

Vaurien stared at her. “What?”

“Thrasher. He's been in love with you since you turned him into a zombie, you idiot, and everyone knows it. Just kiss him and let him figure it out. I'm sure it'll be fine,” she said dismissively. “Or just pick a woman, if you're so upset about it.”

Vaurien's throat was tight and dry. “Thrasher?”

“Yeah, why not?” Valkyrie said, frowning. “He's really hot, now that he's got that new body and all.”

“But he's... he's Thrasher!” Vaurien protested.

“And he's the only one you mention when you talk about your... urges,” Cain said patiently. “You keep bringing him up, even though you say you still want to sleep with women. What's wrong with Thrasher? At least you've got interlocking parts.”

Vaurien gaped at her.

“Your five minutes are up,” Cain said, heading back towards the pub. “You're horny, Scapegrace. It's normal. Just find someone to sleep with, it'll be fine.”

Then she left, and Scapegrace had to sit down.

***

Muttering to himself, Vaurien wiped the bar and dusted the bottles. Not that there was any dust – he did this when he had no customers, and he rarely had as many customers as he would like, and therefore dusting was an almost daily occurrence. But it was something to do, something pub owner-like. Also, it gave him a chance to mutter angrily to himself while doing something productive.

Thrasher was wiping down tables. Of course he was, the idiot. Just when Vaurien would have like to be alone, Thrasher was humming happily to himself, bounding about the room, wiping down tables and refilling stacks of coasters. His stupid, massive shoulders were hunched over as he scrubbed at a resistant stain, and his stupid, large hands were industrious.

His stupid, stupid, _stupidly_ perfect backside was turned towards Vaurien, and he muttered even more angrily at the sight of it. Why was it so perfect? Why was it so... so pat-able? Why did Vaurien want to -

No. No, he did not want to do anything to Thrasher's backside, thank you very much. Not even when it clenched, like that, when Thrasher leaned down to pick up the rag when he dropped it. Not even then, dammit!

Thrasher turned around, levelling that broad, pearly, perfect grin at him, and Vaurien scowled and turned away. Damn that jawline! Damn those eyes!

“Master?”

Vaurien kept his back to his underling and fixed a glower firmly on his face. “What?”

“Are you okay, master?” Thrasher's voice asked behind him. “Only, you seem upset.”

“You're an idiot,” Vaurien snapped, and stalked out of the room.

Damn that concern and that empathy!

Vaurien began clearing the desk in the back room, just to give himself something to do with his hands. So he could keep his hands from wanting to dig into Thrasher's stupid muscles. So he could stop thinking how nice it would be to have Thrasher's big hands... No.

“Master, please tell me what's wrong,” Thrasher said from behind him.

Good God, his voice was tearful.

Vaurien whirled, fully intending to yell at his idiot underling, but when he saw Thrasher standing there with concern all over his stupid, perfect face, he just couldn't. Instead, he sagged, leaning back against the desk.

“Please leave me alone, Thrasher.”

The other man stared at him. “Now I know something's wrong,” he said sadly. “You never say please.”

“Well, something is wrong, but I don't want to talk about it,” Vaurien said sourly. “Go away, Thrasher.” Then he turned around to keep pretending to clear the desk.

He heard two steps behind him, and then suddenly he was enveloped in a hug. Thrasher's huge, muscular arms were around him, and he was being pulled backwards into bulging pectorals. The heat of the other man enveloped him, and Vaurien felt indescribably safe.

“I'm sorry, master,” Thrasher muttered. “But you need a hug.”

Those arms tightened around him, and suddenly, all of Vaurien's fight left him. His body felt too hot. Thrasher's body was solid, and warm, and gentle against his own. When he felt the thud-thud of Thrasher's heart, Vaurien gave a sigh and leaned back against that wall of muscle. His body, this treacherous new body, made it very clear, with all its clenching and heating up, that it was all for it.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all? Maybe he could just try it, just this once, and if it was terrible, he could order Thrasher to leave and never come back? He could. The idiot always did whatever Vaurien told him.

“Master,” Thrasher whispered, his mouth close to Vaurien's ear. “I... I – ”

But Vaurien didn't want to hear it. He turned around in Thrasher's grip, stared the other man into silence, and then – taking a deep breath – he put his hands in Thrasher's hair and pulled him down until they were close enough for a kiss.

“Shut up, you idiot,” he murmured, then pressed his lips to Thrasher's.

Briefly, he thought of what they must look like. Vaurien, in the body of a red-haired beauty, being kissed soundly by a tall, muscular, gorgeous man, miles from anything Thrasher had been alive. They must have looked like the cover of a romance novel. And yet, there was not a doubt in Vaurien's mind that it was Thrasher kissing him, no one else.

No one else would be so reverent when they touched his cheek, barely brushing fingertips against it. No other man on the planet would gaze at him like he was the sun and moon wrapped up in one person. Nobody else would make Vaurien think of rotten poetry, either.

“Master,” Thrasher whispered as he broke the kiss. “Are you... are you serious? Can I... am I allowed to touch you?”

“Shut up, you idiot, and take your shirt off,” Vaurien snapped.

Thrasher did, quickly and so violently at least two buttons burst from the fabric and skittered across the floor.

Vaurien made an undignified sound at the back of his throat. Thrasher's body was amazing. There was muscle where he hadn't really known it was possible to grow muscle, and a coarse trail of hair leading down from his chest to his waistband, and the skin was warm and... and...

The next sound he made was something like a gurgle.

“Please, master, may I?” Thrasher asked breathlessly, and Vaurien was too busy licking his dry lips to notice that he was nodding.

Then Thrasher removed Vaurien's own shirt, and was staring openly at his chest. Vaurien, as an act of sheer protest, didn't wear underwear, and his breasts felt heavy and aching. When Thrasher gently put his hands on them, Vaurien sucked in air like he'd been drowning.

“You're so beautiful, master,” the underling breathed, and then kissed Vaurien again.

Despite himself, Vaurien smiled a little into the kiss. The other man's raw admiration felt... it felt good. Validating. But most importantly, the other man made him feel like there wasn't anything wrong with him. He was just aroused, that was all. Normal women became aroused, didn't they, when men as gorgeous as Thrasher's new body kissed them and touched them and told them nice things?

Of course they did, Vaurien told himself; nothing wrong with this.

Then Thrasher began kneading, rubbing his nipples more intently, and Vaurien gave an honest-to-God whimper. An embarrassing one.

“I want to make you feel wonderful, master,” Thrasher murmured, then put his nose against Vaurien's temple and inhaled slowly. “Can I? Please, master, let me.”

Vaurien gurgled again. Thrasher, fortunately, took this as agreement and smiled ecstatically down at his master. He followed the smile with another kiss, and while he was kissing the other man, he slid his hands down to open Vaurien's jeans.

“Thrasher,” Vaurien stuttered, finally catching up to his own body. He knew what he wanted, but he had no idea how to make Thrasher do it, or how to ask. “Thrasher, I've never done this before.”

“That can't be true,” Thrasher said in his doleful voice. “You must have had scores of people chasing after you.”

“You idiot, of course I've _done this_ before,” Vaurien snapped. “But not... with a man. I've never done it like this.”

“I have,” Thrasher admitted, his cheeks reddening. “Before I became a zombie, I did this a few times. I'm sure I can remember it, sir.”

The sharp sting of jealousy surprised Vaurien more than anything. Why did he care? Why did it matter who had done what to or with Thrasher before Vaurien had even met him? Stupid lady feelings!

Although, as Thrasher eased the jeans from his hips and kissed his neck, Vaurien had to admit that his feelings for his underling had nothing to do with his female body. The arousal may be new and definitely lady-part related. But the desire to keep him for himself, and to be the only person Thrasher answered to? That had been going on long before they transplanted their brains.

“If you'll get on the desk, sir,” Thrasher said, blushing even as he said it. “I can... I can try and do this bit first.”

Vaurien frowned. “Do what bit?”

“The, the bit where you... where you enjoy yourself, master.”

Vaurien's eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, that bit. Well...”

He hesitated. He wasn't entirely comfortable with his lady parts yet, and to have Thrasher going after them with fingers or mouth or whatever he was going to use... Well. He did want to stop feeling aroused, didn't he? And an orgasm usually took care of arousal. So, on the desk it was.

Naked, and feeling more self-conscious than he had ever been in his life, Vaurien Scapegrace laid his tall, curvy, glorious body on top of the desk. Then he sat up again. “I'm not sure,” he said, avoiding Thrasher's eyes. “I feel silly.”

“No, master, you're not,” Thrasher reassured him, stepping over to the desk with his eyes firmly fixed on the apex of Vaurien's thighs. “I can do this. I think. Just tell me what you like when I try it.”

Blushing furiously, Vaurien looked away again, but not before he noticed that Thrasher was equally red. At least they were both embarrassed, which was something. It felt... nice, actually. To know they were on the same level of mortification in this.

Thrasher opened his own jeans, pushed them down just a little, and Vaurien's eyes went wide in alarm when he saw what the other man had been hiding under his clothes.

“That looks painful,” he said, staring at an unnecessarily large erection standing at attention out of Thrasher's jeans and underwear.

“Sorry, master,” he said shamefacedly. “I won't do anything if you don't like it, I swear. I just need to... well, it hurts, sir. With the jeans closed.”

Vaurien closed his eyes tightly. “Alright. Do it. Whatever you're doing, do it. Let's get this over with.”

He felt Thrasher's hands on his thighs and jumped. He kept his eyes closed. Those hands slid upwards and then they were touching his breasts again, and that felt nice. Very nice. He sighed a little and relaxed just a fraction. Then there was a soft rustling of clothes, and when he opened his eyes just a sliver, Vaurien saw that Thrasher was on his knees in front of the desk.

“I think you should put your feet somewhere comfortable, master,” Thrasher suggested, and Vaurien put his feet – still in his socks, because he just hadn't stopped to take those off – up on the edge of the desk. That made him a little short of breath because his legs were too close to his ribs, and he put them on Thrasher's shoulders instead.

Much better.

“Here, master,” Thrasher said, and his huge, big, manly hands pulled his master's hips closer to the edge of the desk. When he had the other man – or at least, the other man's female body – situated to his liking, he leaned in and put his mouth right where Vaurien was clenching.

Vaurien couldn't stop the noises tumbling from his lips. Oh, good Lord, Thrasher was sucking on... was licking his... what was that? How could just a tongue on skin feel that amazing? Not even getting head had felt this good, the one time he'd paid a prostitute for it. He struggled to keep upright, to look at Thrasher, but it was too good, and his arms felt too weak, and before he knew it, Vaurien Scapegrace was lying back over the desk. His hips were bucking into Thrasher's face, and he was moaning.

Moaning, for God's sake.

“More,” he demanded, amid whimpering moans that sounded entirely dirty coming from his feminine vocal cords. “Dammit, Thrasher, more!”

Thrasher complied, and Vaurien squealed.

_Squealed._

“Master, is this alright?” Thrasher asked with concern in his voice, and Vaurien snarled.

“Don't stop, you idiot!”

“Oh. Right,” Thrasher said, and put his head back down.

Then his teeth raked ever so gently over Vaurien's tender, clenching parts, and his body jolted upwards with a shock of pleasure.

“Again!” he gasped, his body humming with need. He'd never even had a female orgasm before and he already knew it would be amazing. He was so close, he could feel his body chasing it. His abdomen contracted. He put his hands in Thrasher's hair and tugged.

_Christ almighty._

Thrasher sucked hard again, grazing that little point of nerves with teeth, and Vaurien felt his orgasm begin to billow through his body. Thrasher kept it up, kept the pressure steady, and slow, rolling waves of pleasure rolled through Vaurien until he cried out and fell back.

His lady parts clenched in little rhythmic bursts. His legs were shaking with the strain of staying on Thrasher's shoulders. His heart was racing. And his body felt slow and thick like honey.

“Oh,” he muttered, gazing up at the ceiling in disbelief. “So that's what... well.”

“Did you... did you like it, master?” Thrasher asked, his face red with exertion now rather than embarrassment. “Was it good?”

A little drop of sweat rolled down along Thrasher's temple, and Vaurien found himself wondering how strenuous that had actually been. Clearly, if they were this much work, he understood now why he had never managed to make any of the women he slept with climax. Also, he felt a little ashamed. He had really never managed to make a woman come before.

“I'm... I'm all... tingly,” Vaurien sighed, strangely feeling the urge to share. “All mellow.”

“Oh, master,” Thrasher sighed, and leaned in to kiss the other man.

Vaurien, frowning, stopped him with a hand to his chest. His massively bulging chest. “Not on your life, you idiot. I know exactly where that mouth's just been.”

Thrasher looked sad, but he pulled back. “So... do you want to... um, master, would you like...?”

Even as he asked, Vaurien glanced down along his own body and noticed that Thrasher's, well, _bits_ were not affected at all by the hard work. His erection was still there, red and hard and intimidatingly large. Vaurien had no idea what to do about it, even though he knew perfectly well what went where.

“I'm... I'm not sure, Thrasher. What if it hurts?”

“I'll stop,” Thrasher promised, a hectic look of anticipation on his face. “I won't do anything unless you like it, master. I swear. I just thought... well, you might like it. Sir.”

The thing was, Vaurien admitted to himself, he did want to. He was staring right at the thing, and even though it was far more monster-like than anything Vaurien had ever seen, his body still clenched hotly – and now, also wetly – at the very thought of it.

Interesting.

“Well, alright,” he said, then settled in on his back. “Try. But you stop, you hear me, the moment I say so.”

This time, the kiss was too sudden for Vaurien to stop it, but the taste wasn't actually disagreeable at all, and besides, it quickly disappeared as Thrasher pushed his tongue into his master's mouth. Vaurien, although he would never admit this to a living soul, was beginning to truly appreciate Thrasher's mouth.

He slid his hands up around his minion's shoulders, pulling Thrasher a little closer, and the other man gasped into the kiss.

“Master, I love -” Thrasher began, but Vaurien would have nothing of it.

“Shut up, idiot,” he interrupted, and glared up at the other man. “Come on, get on with it.”

There was a brief moment of fumbling as Thrasher leaned close, tried adjusting himself, and ended up having to back up a little to look at what he was doing. Vaurien could feel his face flame. Then, suddenly, he was full of... of...

“Christ,” Vaurien gasped, and pulled Thrasher as close as he could get. He needed to wrap his arms around something, to anchor himself. The feeling was bizarre, and yet, perfect. Just right. As natural as if he'd done this a thousand times.

“Oh, master,” Thrasher groaned, and buried his face in Vaurien's long, red hair. “Master, you're amazing. I love you.”

Dammit, there it was. The idiot was saying it aloud. Vaurien wriggled a little, trying to get into a position where he could scowl at the other man, but then Thrasher began thrusting and there wasn't a thought of a scowl left in the former zombie king. There was a slow, wet drag of skin against skin, and the only thing Vaurien managed was another gurgle.

“Thra-aaaaaah,” he managed.

“Yes,” Thrasher said, voice fervent. “Yes, sir.”

Everything felt intense, even the slow rub of that stupidly muscled chest against his own tender breasts. The breath on his neck. The kisses to his throat. Thrasher's wide fingers digging into his hip and his shoulder. The full, tingling perfection of Thrasher _inside_ him; good Lord, he was letting his underling fuck him on a table in the back room of the pub, and the only thing he could think of was how good it was!

Vaurien whimpered again.

“Master, may I?” Thrasher groaned, sounding pained. “Please!”

“What?” Thrasher muttered, dazed.

“I'm, I'm going to... master!” Thrasher gasped, and then he bucked against the softer body beneath him, and then he gave a bit-off shout as his body went rigid and his head tipped back. Vaurien looked up at him, found him distractingly beautiful, and then he felt warm wetness making the thrusts inside him even slicker.

Vaurien gaped. He stared. He looked down his heaving curves towards where his body was being deliciously invaded by Thrasher's. Then he took a moment to realise what had actually just happened.

Thrasher had just... inside him.

“You what?” he snapped, looking up at Thrasher.

But Thrasher simply leaned in, heaving for breath, and kissed his master again. Softly, lovingly, he pressed their lips together and then nuzzled his cheek against Vaurien's own. “Master, I love you so much. I've loved you since we met. Thank you. Oh, thank you, sir.”

Another kiss, and all the while Vaurien was lying there, torn between basking in the lovely things the idiot was saying to him, and being affronted that his new, apparently greedy lady parts were full of... of...

Eeew.

“Thrasher,” he said, still unsure what reaction to have. “You put all your... your _stuff_ in me. That's... I'm sure that's not good.”

“Why?” Thrasher sighed, then kissed down Vaurien's neck and onto his clavicle. “It's not dangerous, master. I don't have any diseases or anything.”

“But this is a female body,” Vaurien insisted. “There's not supposed to be _stuff_ inside it.”

“I'll run a bath for you, master,” Thrasher offered happily. Then he reached Vaurien's left breast and took the tip of it into his mouth, and that was an amazingly good thing to do.

“But what about... well, the other bits? Christ, can I get pregnant? I'm sure this body is fertile, Thrasher. I can't go about being pregnant!” he snapped, then pushed Thrasher away and sat up. The glow was fading, but not quickly enough that he didn't feel a twinge of guilt at the hurt expression on Thrasher's face.

“Well... no, master.”

“Go to the medical wing of the Sanctuary, and get me something to make sure there's no risk,” Vaurien said strictly. “And get me something good, Thrasher; if I get pregnant from this, I will call Skulduggery Pleasant and tell him you scratched his Bentley.”

“But I didn't,” Thrasher said, confused and naked and distracting like nothing Vaurien's body had ever reacted to.

“But I will, and I'll tell him it was you, and he'll kill you horribly,” Vaurien snapped. He didn't like feeling like a zombie again, all mindless and enslaved to a great set of pectoral muscles. “Now, go.”

Thrasher began putting his clothes back on, then turned and looked at Vaurien with his big, sad eyes. “Are you sure you don't want a bath, master?”

Vaurien considered. Then relented. “Fine, run me a bath, idiot. Then go and get me an emergency contraceptive.”

Thrasher nodded, still looking downcast, and was about to head out of the room when Vaurien's lady parts took over his brain again and added, “Then get back here and... and scrub my back. Please.”

Thrasher's face lit up like an entire choir of angels. He rushed back, kissed Vaurien full on the lips, and scurried out of the room with a cheerful, “Be right back, master.”

Vaurien sighed. Oh well. At least he wasn't horny any more.

Later, however, Thrasher came back, got naked, and Vaurien became horny all over again. And Vaurien demanded Thrasher do something about the ensuing horniness, and Thrasher enthusiastically obeyed, and before the day was out, Vaurien Scapegrace was once more whimpering and Thrasher was declaring his love. The worst part was, Vaurien didn't even have the energy to smack him and call him an idiot for it.

Damn his greedy new lady parts.


End file.
